Saintlike
by KatZole
Summary: Follow the perfectly normal and ordinary slice of life adventures of a newly constructed Cybertronian, who totally doesn't have a dramatic backstory and definitely doesn't end up in various strange and terrifying situations. Yep. This is just your regular story about a young seeker trying to find his place in the universe. PRE WAR-AU/MIX Semi SI/OC Im bad at summaries. Lot's OC's
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Reality came back to me as a giant shock. Literally. It felt like I was stung by a thousand (cold… cold…) needles in an agonizingly painful, yet weirdly ticklish way. I felt myself starting to _spread_ and then _twitch_ and… And…And then moments or infinity later…

It was all over.

**[INITIATING ONLINING PROTOCOLS]**

**[BOOTING]**

**[1%... 20%...58%... 98%...]**

**[100%]**

**[ALL CORE SYSTEMS ARE FUNCTIONAL]**

**[ONLINING]**

Suddenly I felt. If before the shocking feel of reality was more inward… Almost _spiritual_…. The new (old…) sensations like touch, smell and sound all at once completely overwhelmed me.

The network of programs that resided inside my processor quickly informed me, that I was currently leaning against something hard and cold. The air was tinged with a strong EMF discharge, mixed with strangely familiar smell I couldn't identify. My sensitive audio receptors picked up a humming sound - some kind of machinery? No (...yes?). Someone was talking.

Immediately I found the correct programs to online my optics, in order to identify the speaker. Besides the new (?!) confusing way at seeing things (Everything so bright! What are these floating symbols? Wait, that's just my HUD… Oh hey I can zoom my vision!) I was greeted with Grey.

So I was right. The Grey was speaking! Wait, that's not right...

After an astrosecond of just fumbling around and familiarizing myself with my own programming, I zoomed my vision out to normal levels, and was greeted not with a blob of grey, but with a stern looking face, with piercing blue eyes.

'_Cybertronian. Just like me_.' My processor helpfully provided me with a pre-downloaded information, when I failed to recognize the strange mech before me.'_Overseer for newly onlined mechs_.'

The mechs face shifted from stern, to a mildly suprised one.

"Hm, orange optics, don't see that every often." The stranger said, voice laced with mild interest, as he marked something on a light green data pad that he was carrying. Before I had time to look around or ask any questions, the blue eyed overseer spoke again. "I repeat. Are you core systems functional?"

It seemed that in my initial onlining confusion I completely missed his previous question. Oh dear.

"All of my core systems are running at 100 %" I spoke up automatically. And woah. Did I really sound like that…? My voice was devoid of any emotion, drone like even!

"Mhmm..." The light grey bot tapped his data pad a few more times."Identify yourself."

And once again I was compelled to answer him. What followed was a lot, and I mean a lot of number reciting from my memory banks. I was honestly amazed that I could do it, before either I or the overseer offlined from boredom.

"...S41-76646" I finished after a while, having a feeling that the bot before me only half listened, as he typed the information. There's no way I'm ever repeating my full identification again. My unique body frame model and factory batch line's number would have to suffice as a designation, until I got a proper one (wait didn't I already have a name...?).

'_... reading normal energy levels…_' I only caught snippets of the overseers data pad. At some point he cleared his voice, catching my attention once again. "You're clear. You can go and wait with the others over there." He said and stepped away from my field of vision.

Finaly, I had a chance to look around.

As I already knew from my pre-downloaded memories, I was in a bot construction factory. I was currently leaning against the assembly line, where new cybertronians like me were built and onlined every cycle. Right next to me the overseer was looming over my batchmate, who's optics were still offline, but digits twitching in a sporadic manner.

Another quick glance around, and I found the "others" that overseer mentioned. Not wanting to be the last bot on the assembly line, I stepped off said assembly line and walked to my fellow batchmates, who were standing about awkwardly in silence.

"Hello." I greeted the four identical looking mechs with scarlet optics, trying to make my voice and EM field as friendly as possible. I was only partly successful, since my voice still came out as pure monotone. I should ask my overseer how to change it's frequency. Nevertheless S41-76643 and S41-76645 (I could tell my batchmates apart by the numbers that were printed on their wings) awkwardly nodded at me, while S41-76648 deigned me with his own - monotone like "Hello".

"Sooo…" I spoke up again."Whats going on?"

"We're waiting for the rest of the batch to online." Explained S41-76648 and I glanced back at the assembly line, where five more mechs were in a various states of onlining."Lazy bunch..."

"Look, zero is finally moving."A quiet hum from S41-76641 got us turning to observe the first steps of one our batch brothers.

Only to watch him take one step forwards, and crash on the ground with a loud clang.

My first breem of life proved to be full of enlightenment, because I learned not one, not two, but THREE new curse words from the overseer.

"Should… Should we help him?" I quietly asked, since the overseer made no move to help him. Nobody spoke up, so I stayed with the group and waited.

Fortunately, we were soon joined by S41-76647 (who's digits were still twitching) and then the rest of the batch. I made sure to greet all of my batchmates, but besides S41-76648 and S41-76641, they didn't seem like a talkative bunch. But hey - we've just onlined, maybe they were shy. Zero, the last one off the floor looked like an incredibly shy one, because he avoided all of our optics like some cyber plague.

After all was said and done, the overseer let out an EM flare that caught our full attention.

''Stand in line and follow me.''

My batchmates and I quickly found the same pre-downloaded military marching protocols, because our awkward shuffling immediately ceased and we snapped in an orderly line. As he was leading us out of the assembly room, I couldn't help myself and shifed my helm a bit, when I heard a low humming sound. Suddenly, the whole assembly line moved and ten more cybertronians (who looked just like me) appeared on the assembly line: chassis open, lacking only sparks.

'_Protoforms_'

I would have loved to stay and watch the whole onlining process, but being a good newly constructed bot, I gave in my core programming and followed the overseer out of the room.

The light grey overseer lead us through various hallways in complete silence. I wanted to ask a bunch of questions like 'where are we going?' 'whats your name? " and 'how do I change my vocal frequency?', but I did not have the courage. Maybe later?

At one point we met another batch of newly onlined mechs, who wanted to use the same elevator as us. The whole batch chittered excitedly with their equally optimistic sounding overseer, who seemed to answer all of their questions. Frag! I really hoped my overseer broke the silence soon.

"Here." The overseer grunted, suddenly stopping in front of non-descriptive doors in some random hallway. The light grey bot typed some sort of command on the door panel and it opened."My break started one breem ago. Go,sit and wait for my return. Do not test your weapon systems, you hear me? Good. I'll see you in…"He murmured something incomprehensible when his optics flashed with annoyance."Why are you still standing here? Go!"

That got us moving. Not wanting to irritate him any further, we quickly piled up in some sort of barrack room (I counted 10 berths). As soon as S41-76649 entered inside, the doors closed with a loud click, as our overseer abandoned _*ahem*_ left us for his break. The room was plunged in total darkness (where are the lights?!) and was illuminated only by our own red (or in my case orange) optics.

An awkward silence ensued as we avoided each others optics, not really knowing what to say or do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

S41-76648 was glitched. That's the only explanation I've got.

"You're glitched." It seemed that S41-76641 and I operated on the same wavelenghts, because he took words straight out of my intake.

"The overseer forbade us from testing out our weaponry. He didn't mention anything about our flight systems. C'mon, we were created to fly." To be fair his offer was kind of tempting. We _were_ newly created fliers and the idea of actual flight was intoxicating. Nevertheless, the suggestion of flying in an enclosed space, in our root mode no less, sounded just a little bit unsafe. And crazy.

"I think I'll wait." S41-76641 shook his helm as S41-76648 shifted his attention to the rest of us.

"Twitchy, Orange, you're with me, right?"

"D-don't call me that!" S41-76647 snapped while I let out a quick "no". Ugh, a groon in to existence and I already had a nickname. I guess it could be worse. I could have been '_Crash_' like S41-76640 over there in the corner.

"Fine. Be that way." S41-76648 crossed his servos and slumped on the the nearest berth."I still can't believe he ditched us!"

"I'm sure he'll be back soon." I tried to assure him."How long can a break be anyways?"

"I really hope so. My fuel tanks are getting low." Eight grumbled.

"How? I'm still running at 92% percent." I asked, feeling genuinely confused. We literally just stood around doing nothing for a few breems. None of us had a chance to do anything worthy of mass energy draining.

"It took you guys a groon to fully online. A _groon_! I almost offlined myself from boredom!"

That still didn't make sense for low fuel tank levels. Maybe he mistook his fuel levels with energy levels? Wait, that also didn't make sense, those were totally different things. Maybe his HUD readings are defective?

"Anyways" I started once again, when another awkward silence threatened to ensue."What paintjobs are you thinking of getting?" The sooner we set apart from each other the better.

That got the three mechs visibly excited. Eight stopped his brooding as he uncrossed his servos and smiled.

"I'm feeling blue." One and Eight said at the same time, while Twitchie's optics dimmed a bit as he thought.

"You can't be blue! I want to be blue!" Eight started visibly shaking from his berth. Oh pit, is he always going to be so moody?

"That's ridiculous."One waved his servo at Eight in a dismissal way."There's thousands of different shades. I'm sure we won't pick the same color pallete."

"But what if we do?!"

"I- I'm thinking something bright. M-maybe even go for a tri-coloured paintjob."Twitchy interrupted the incoming argument between the two mechs and looked at me." A-and you?"

"I like the grey." I admitted.

"Seriously?" My batch mates shared the same dubious look."You want to look the same?" Asked Eight.

"Not this grey."I shuddered at the thought." I want it to be something lighter? Silver, maybe? Slap some minor decorative paintjob and you've got a solid, professional looking finish."

"Well, as long as it's not blue…"

"I think getting named is more important." Mused One, ignoring Eight's mumbling." Do you think our batch initiator will give us one?"

"I mean he should. We're high class, right?" I thought for a moment thinking about mechs who were created by the Well of Allspark."And if he doesn't the Flier's guild certainly will."

"I hope it's not something stupid…" Muttered Eight as we all glanced at Crash who isolated himself from everybody in the corner of the room. The rest of our batch mates were on the other side, doing their own thing."Were not the only batch. I bet the best names will be taken by the time our time comes."

"We can always change it down the line, I guess." I said. We were beings that lived for million vorns. I was sure many Cybertronians changed their names at least once in their lifetime, to fit their personalities better."I just don't want to go identifying as a number anymore."I took a small intake."Also, our vocal audio frequency has to go. We sound like drones."

"At least our EM fields feel different." Noted One as I tried to confirm what he said. And while I picked up a lot of similarities between the four of us (probably because we were the same model/batch line mechs), our own spark signature let out an unique frequency, that no two cybertronians shared.

It was honestly nice to just stand there with my batch mates, as we tried to familiarize with each other. For some reason, it made me feel… Nostalgic?

"Stupid glitches! Don't even know how to turn on the lights!"

….aaaaaaaaaand the overseer was back. And he sounded irritated. Not a good sign. The whole batch scrambled to stand in a chronological line. Crash must have forgotten to turn his night vision on (or maybe off, since overseer turned the lights on and my optics burned), since he started stumbling around like a blind mech. Besides me, Twitchy curled his digits in a tight ball, trying to stop them from shaking.

"Stop wasting time! We're already behind schedule! Move, move!" The overseer physically grabbed flailing Crash by his servo and dragged him out of the door, while the rest of us obediently followed.

Setting a fast pace through various hallways, the overseer lead us to a large hangar that was full of various scorch marks all over the walls and in some places - floor. About ten steps ahead of us was a weapon firing lane, with various targets at the end of the room. Yep, that's a shooting range, alright. Then, a little bit to the right, there was a huge weapons rack full of missles, blasters, canons and other various weapons of different caliber.

I briefly wondered why our overseer forbade us from trying out our weapon systems: specifically the plasma blasters that were already pre-built in our jet bodies. Maybe he thought we we stupid enough to hurt ourselves? That was highly insulting to all the military type mechs on Cybertron!

I didn't even have to look, when I heard Crash tripping over one of my batch mates (probably poor One). Okay. Maybe overseer had a point. I wouldn't leave Crash with weapons alone, unsupervised either.

"Arm yourselves with missles and step in front of the shooting range. We're going to test your weapon systems."

The following two groons (according to my internal chronometer) were spent shooting and destroying various targets in front of us. I did quite alright, if I had to say it myself. I only missed three of my targets, but only because Twitchy, that absolute glitch with his twitchy servos turned out to be some sort of sharpshooter prodigy, as he started shooting down not only his, but mine, Eight's and S41-76649's targets while we were busy reloading or aiming.

I personally favored the plasma blasters, because I could just spam them, not really worrying about aiming too much, but it ate through my energy levels at an alarming rate. To our collective suprise Crash also didn't offline anybody, so maybe only his motor functions were defective. To be fair, this was honestly not that hard, with the whole pre-downloaded information.

"Overall not bad." It was the first time I heard the overseer say something positive, as he typed out our stats when we were finished."Better than the three previous batches." Yay! We weren't useless!"But you're still lagging behind! I still need to test out your flight and memory systems."

"Did he say '_flight_'?'' Eight chittered with pure excitement somewhere behind me, while Twitchy's twitching spread to his whole body.

"Yes, yes we will go and check your memory systems right now." That immediately shut Eight up. The overseer tapped something on his datapad."And then there's your fueling brake. Can't have you crashing down before the flight test, can we?" He moved his optics away from the pad to look directly at Crash.

Crash looked moderately ashamed.

"Well, you should know the drill by now. Keep moving!" The overseer ordered us as we stepped in our orderly line and marched out of the room after the grumpy bot.

The next room that we ended up in wasn't anything special, besides the various datapads and strange connection devices that we had to plug in our helms and in turn - processors. The whole process was extremely tedious and processor numbing, as we collectively refreshed and filled out our pre-downloaded information on to the data pads before us.

Unfortunately, at some point my whole processor fragging _glitched_.

The overseer, being the overseer noticed the problem immediately, because he was right next to me in an instant. A not too gentle slap on my helm got me un-glitched, as I started looking around in a confused manner.

What the frag just happen?

I looked down at my data pad and quickly found the problem. Apparently, I put some mech named Optimus as a ruling Prime of Cybertron instead of Sentinel Prime. The same happened with the High Lord Protector (who the frag is Megatron? Did I meant to write Megatronus Prime - one of the Original Thirteen Primes? Did my memory glitch had a glitch?), Vos Winglord (Starscream, what a stupid name, I meant to input Winglord Zephyr) and a bunch of other high ranking positions that made up Cybertronian society.

Why in the pit I added made up information on the data pad? I quickly rechecked my pre-downloaded information. Yep! Only familiar names here!

To add acid to the injury, I failed to answer the very first question "_What year is it_?". The symbols my processor transferred on to the data pad weren't even in cybertronian - and were looking like gibberish. I didn't even known that glitches could be visualized!

While I was freaking out, part of the overseers helm slowly shifted aside and a small cable, not unlike the connection device I was currently using, slithered out and connected itself with my own helm. Almost instantly, I felt the overseer connect with my core programming. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling, as various programs in my processor started onlining and executing on their own! This wasn't right!

"Stop squirming." The overseer grunted and once again slapped me on my helm. Gritting my dentas I tried to be patient, as overseer rifled through my processor. Thank Primus, he unplugged himself after a short klik.

"Everything's working as it should. Just a minor glitch from the connection device. Happens to everybot once in a while. You can continue." He said dismissively as he stood up and walked over to S41-76642, who wasn't moving and had a thousand hics stare.

With slight apprehension, I connected myself to the data pad and started refreshing my memory banks once again. Thankfully, with no processor crashing this time around. Still, despite the overseers not-reassuring-reassurance, something in my spark told me that this wasn't just a random glitching.


	3. Chapter 3

Units of time (because author is also confused. Time units are used from different continuities):

**Nanoklik ~ 1 second**

**Klik ~ 1 minute.**

**Breem ~ 8.3 minutes**

**Groon ~ 1 hour**

**Solar cycle or just cycle - Cybertronian day (20 groons)**

**Deca cycle - Cybertronian week (10 cycles)**

**Orbital cycle - Cybertronian month (32 cycles)**

**Stellar cycle - Cybertronian year (10 orbital cycles)**

**Vorn ~ 83 years (is it cybertronian years? Human years? Who knows!)**

**The first three chapters should be concidered as one.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

It took a gentle tap on my right wing to snap me back to reality.

"Huh?"

"You barely touched your energon. Are you feeling okay?" One was giving me a concerned look. We were currently refueling in an overcrowded canteen, while we waited for our overseer to come back from yet another break.

"Ah, it's nothing."I grabbed my barely touched energon cube and took a quick sip, tasting the liquid. It was mid-grade, but it still felt special on my glossa."Just thinking about the... You know... The glitch…" I muttered the last part under my olfactory.

"Hey, at least you didn't freeze up like S41-76642." Whispered One, but S41-76642 still heard. I mean, he was sitting right in front of us, since all of the other seats were currently occupied.

"Well _exuuuuuuuse_ me! I thought I was offlining!" The mech in front of me vented in frustration."Half of my pre-downloaded memories - gone in an instant!"

Okay, that sounded scary. My own glitching experience seemed quite mild compared to his.

"But you've got them back, right?" I asked.

"I wouldn't be sitting here, talking to you if that was the case." S41-76642 shook his helm, when his optics suddenly widened to a comical level. There was a loud crashing sound immediately afterwards, and the whole canteen went silent for a klik."What in the pit is he doing?" He whispered, looking right past us.

"What?" "Huh?" One and I immediately turned around. And what a horrific sight! You could mistake the table behind us for a murder scene. Bright pink energon was splashed everywhere leaving no surface - several bots from nearby tables included - untouched. The culprit of the mess was no other than Crash, who must have dropped his energon cube and was currently trying (and failing) to clean the mess up with his bare servos.

To make matters worse Crash seemed to notice that we were staring at him, because he awkwardly smiled in our direction.

"Pit, don't make optic contact!" Hissed S41-76642 and we quickly turned away, pretending we weren't looking. But it was too late. With pooling dread I heard the unmistakable sound of somebody standing up, walking and stopping right behind our backs.

"Um…" It was the first time I heard S41-76640 make a sound that wasn't a whimper. I took a nervous sip of energon, while S41-76642 closed his optics, pretending to be in recharge. Or being offline. I couldn't be sure.

'_Don't. Turn. Around_.' There was a soft ping in my processor, as I received a short private message from S41-76642 through my com-link. Talk about quick thinking!

"So, I overheard one of the overseers saying that we're going to stay here for a full deca cycle." One said as if he didn't heard the mech behind us.

"Really? Why's that?" That did seem like an unreasonably long time. We weren't mechs who onlined via the Well of All Sparks and needed at least two deca cycles to fully integrate in to the rest of society. Unlike them, we constructed bots were onlined and ready for our jobs straight from the get go.

"Something about a protest outside…?" One's optical ridge furrowed, trying to ignore the continous "umm'ing" behind us."But I don't know what that is."

"...umm there's some ener…"

"A protest is a statement or an action expressing disapproval over something." I explained, not really sure where I'm pulling the information from, since it wasn't present in my databanks. Still, the explanation felt right in my spark.

"So, is it a good or a bad thing then?" One asked.

"...gon on your helm…"

"It's subjective. Depends on your perspective." I was praying that it wasn't me that was sprayed by energon."Look at it this way. Because of it we are being delayed from getting our names and paintjobs, but at the same time we get more time to… I don't know… Get a better feeling of ourselves? Spend more time together?" I hoped I didn't get too sappy at the end. I've only known One for half a solar cycle!

"It's a good thing then."One smiled after a brief pause."It is…rather pleasant talking to you."

I couldn't help but smile right back at him."I just wish our overseer would be that pleasant."

"...i'm sorry…."

"Maybe he's just having a bad solar cycle." I sure hoped so."We were running behind schedule, weren't we?"

"That doesn't justify him yelling at us." I couldn't help but grumble."It's our first cycle of being online!"

"HEY GUYS, THERE YOU ARE!" A sudden shout right next to my audio receptors got me jumping from my seat.

"Gaahh! Eight!" It took me a moment to recognize the mech besides me, because his voice sounded different."You changed your voice frequency!"

"... i'm just gonna go…"

"Yep."Eight's voice was high pitched and full of energy, just like the mech."It's sooooooo easy. Just access your voice box programming and activate the first three programs. By the way Orange, why do you have energon on your the back of your helm?"

For pit's sake! I raised my servo to clean away the energon.

"Missed a spot." Laughed Eight, while One kept whirling and clicking right next to me, trying to find the right voice frequency for himself."Hey, you gonna drink that?" He added, looking at my energon.

"Yes."I snatched my energon cube and took three big gulps, aware of hungry optics of my batchmate.

"How do I sound?~" Asked One with the softest voice I could imagine, after I finished drinking my ration.

"It does suit you." I nodded, while discreetly looking behind me. Yes! "Crash is gone."I whispered not too quietly.

"Finally!" S41-76642 optics went wide awake."I thought he would never leave."

"That was him?" Eight didn't sound surprised." That would explain… Everything. Anyways, I just saw our overseer return. We should get ready to be yelled at."

"He won't yell…" One started to defend our overseer once again, when a comm message interrupted us.

_'Batch four! To me! Now!'_ Our overseer sounded impatient.

Before I could think, I was on my pedes marching after my batchmates to the front of the canteen. At the same time, I accessed my voice box programming and started searching for my own voice.

The whole process came naturally - I just followed what my spark wanted. The moment I found the frequency I knew it was the right one, because it was just so...me. I hummed with content, liking the sound of it.

Voice down, paintjob and name to go.

"It's happening, it's happening…!" A few breems later found us S41 models, batches 0 - 9 in ten neat lines in front of a huge door at the very top of the building. And not just any door, but a door that lead outside. I wasn't the only one excited - with hundred of us yelling over each other it was no wonder that our overseers were using comm-lines to communicate with us.

My wings twitched with excitement. I was finally going to see outside.

I was finally going to scan my alt mode.

I was finally going to fly.

With a loud 'swooosh' the huge hangar like door opened and I found myself standing outside, on the very top of the bot assembly factory.

Slowly, I tilted my helm to look at the sky. The very first thing that caught my attention were two giant moons (Luna 1 and Luna 2) that orbited the planet. Giant skyscrapers surrounded the factory from all sides, spiraling up and up and up, artificially illuminating everything in their path with bright neon lights.

Even with the artificial illumination, I could still spot various stars and nebulas littering the sky and I wondered if I'll ever visit them. In the distance I saw small shapes moving from one place to another with great speeds. Were they fellow Cybertronians or merely transportation? It was hard to tell from the distance.

'_Scan the vehicle_.' Comm-ed one of the overseers, catching my attention once again. Only then I noticed my future alt mode - a scout class cybertronian jet built for speed and agility - displayed at the very front of the assembled mechs. I felt a pang of jealousy for the mechs that onlined as zeros.

Not wasting time, I activated my sensors and quickly scanned the presented vehicle, feeling my whole body starting to shift. Suddenly, I've gotten a lot taller and bulkier, as I formed armour around my protoform. I looked at S41-76636 on my left and was pleased with what I saw. S41-76636 seemed to have the same idea, because he was also checking me out.

"Lookin' good." The mech winked at me and I felt my faceplates heating up.

"Y-you too." I complimented my batchmate, that looked exactly like me (minus the optics) and mentally slapped myself afterwards.

'_Follow your overseer's example and prepare to transform, one batch at the time_.' Another ping and with it I received a small information packet marked as "important". It took me an nanoklik to fully download and comprehend it, as I've gained knowledge of my first flight formation.'_Batch one - go_!'

With an aura of pure anticipation, I watched the first batch of mechs start to run after their overseer to the ledge of the building, fan out, jump and transform to their alt modes. Then the second batch, and then the third. Not even a klik later, it was my own batch's turn.

_'Go, go go!_' The impatient comm got us moving alright, as we started sprinting after our overseer. After my third or fourth step, I started following the downloaded protocols and ran slightly to the left, while some of my batchmates shifted to the right. Another few steps and I found myself in an V formation, with my overseer at the very front.

As the ledge of the building moved closer and closer, following the example of S41-76644 in front of me, I leaped as high as I could and willed myself to transform. The whole transformation took only five nano kliks, and I wasted no time boosting my afterburners to the max, as gravity stopped working on me. I was hit with thousands of different new sensations all over my body, especially the wings, as my processor tried to sort them out.

Everything felt just right. I never wanted to touch the ground again. With soaring spark, I _flew._

The next few groons were spent testing various body systems and sensors of my alt mode. Although the thrill of actual flying was like no other, after the first two breems I wanted to say 'frag it', leave the formation and go flying solo at my own pace.

It was downright antagonizing flying at low speeds in circles, testing systems that I already knew were working perfectly. I wished I could let myself loose, but didn't want to face my overseers wrath.

Despite the slow pace, the flight gave me the ability to examine the city around me from a new perspective. Although the factory wasn't anywhere near the city center where the skyscrapers were the tallest and elite took their residence, I immediately fell in love with my city-state.

Vos. The name sounded elegant on the glossa. I couldn't wait to explore it all.

All too soon, the overseer ordered us to land. Feeling reluctant, but slightly relieved that the testing was finally over, I followed my batchmates to the top of the building. I found myself unable to transform mid-air like our overseer, instead I had to land in my alt mode and only then transform.

The rest done the same, although I spotted some mechs from different batches trying to transform like our overseers, but failing spectacularly. From the snickers around them, I bet by the end of the cycle S41-76640 wasn't going to be the only 'Crash' in the factory anymore.

After that, there was another trip to the canteen where we got our evening rations. Only when I drank the energon I realized how tired I was. My internal systems were running considerably slower and my pedes along with my wings ached with movement, Even with hundred or so mechs in the canteen, everyone was talking in low voices, the full weight of the cycle finally catching up to us.

After refueling, with tired pedes I followed my overseer back to the barracks, only barely aware that he still hasn't lifted his optics from his datapad.

"I'm sending you the layout own the building and your schedule for the next deca cycle."The light grey bot said tapping his datapad as we received the new information in our processors. According to our schedule, we needed to refuel in six groons, and meet at weapons range in seven.

Then to our surprise he finally looked away from the pad, subspaced it and faced us fully. "Any questions?" He asked with a scowl.

None of us were brave enough to make a sound.

"Good. Don't be late." The bot threatened, I mean, informed us and without a further ado left the room, leaving us in literal darkness. Again.

Seriously, how do the lights work around here?

"We're sleeping there." Eight didn't waste time and grabbed me by my left servo, dragging me to the end of the room. I ended up picking a berth between him and One and slowly laid down and offlined my optics.

I thought about the the first cycle of my life. Maybe it was a good thing that I was going to spend a full deca cycle at the factory, there were just so many things to process. My batchmates were an interesting bunch, I've got to see Cybertron and fly for the first time. I also glitched for a bit, and my overseer was a bit of an aft, but I didn't want to dwell on that for long.

Overall - not bad, I decided as I willed myself into a recharge.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The following three cycles at the factory went in similar fashion, as my overseer continued to supervise my group of ten. I haven't glitched again (thank Primus!) and by the fourth cycle I learned how to land in my root mode - a feat I was extremely proud of. Everything was going fine until… Well...

"Where did you heard that word!?" A horrified gasp from a bright red-gold overseer got me freezing on the spot. Just my luck to get caught cussing in front of an authority figure.

"What do you mean? What word?" I asked the mech as innocently as I could, praying he wouldn't notice the slight tremble in my voice.

"Yeah, what word? Did you mean 'frag' or 'slag'?" Eight asked the mech naively. Apparently, he didn't seem to get the memo that cursing was bad." Or was it 'scrap'?"

"I didn't say anything." I tried playing dumb.

"I heard you said "fragger" like four times today." Eight looked at me confused. Primus! Why is he so stupid! It's like he never heard of lying before. "What?" He asked slightly miffed, after I tried smelting him with my optics alone.

Crash decided to crash into me just a klik ago, as Eight and I were leaving the canteen. He dented my right wing in such horrific way, I almost offlined from the pain. Crash, that utter glitch, just whimpered a quick "sorry" and ran away before I could permanently deactivate him. Because I was cursing so loudly (both from the pain and anger) I didn't notice an overseer sneaking up on us.

And he didn't look happy.

"Those are bad words! Curses! You shouldn't say them." The red-gold overseer flared his wings out, effectively blocking our only escape route."Such uncouth behavior! Your glossa should be removed!"

"...what's uncouth…?" Eight whisper-asked, finally seeming to realize the unfortunate situation we were in.

"Rude behavior." Answered the red-gold overseer, tapping his pede impatiently."So? Where was it?"

"Ummmm…" How do I explain this? Would he believe that I learned to cuss from my own overseer? Probably not."I heard it here in canteen. I don't remember who said it." I lied.

The brightly coloured overseer didn't seem convinced. Yeah, it was a bad lie since the canteen was constantly monitored, but I couldn't think of anything else on the spot. Eight nervously looked away and my internal fans turned on. Neither of us were brave enough to call out our overseer, even if his snappy attitude towards us only worsened since our onlining.

"I'm sorry." Quick! Change of topic! "I only said those words because my wing is hurt."I showed him my dented wing, hoping my injury will get us out of trouble."Owwwwie!" I tried selling the hurt act with a pitiful whimper. I didn't even have to fake it, since it actually hurt when I moved it.

The overseers optics flashed and I prepared for the worst.

"Don't ever use that kind of language again." He warned in a slow, deliberate voice. "You - return to your barracks. Orange, you're coming with me." He said using my nickname and lowered his wings, un-blocking the path.

Eight wasted no time and made himself scarce the moment the path was clear. I hoped he shot Crash for me. Not wanting to keep the red-gold overseer waiting, I dutifully followed him to the nearest elevator.

"Four cycles old and already cussing, lying, getting into fights..." The mech kept casting me disapproving looks. Hey, the last part wasn't true!

"Am I in trouble?" I asked nervously. Oh what a stupid question! Of course I was in trouble! I'm going to have my glossa/voice box removed!l I'm going to have to communicate through a com-link for the rest of my life! It wasn't fair! Fragging Crash!

Seeing my distress the mechs EM field softened for a little bit.

"You're not."He said after a moment of silence."Just know that this kind of behavior WILL NOT be tolerated in public." Not that I thought any differently.

"I understand."I quickly assured him, feeling extremely relieved. Glossa - safe.

"I don't know why I'm surprised really, considering you're Frostbreeze's charge." The mech said with a hint of distain in his voice."Something must be done about him…"

Before I could ask who the frag was Frostbreeze, the elevator stopped and opened. I cringed inwardly at what, or should I say, who I saw.

"Speaking of Frostbreeze." The red-gold overseer faced the light grey mech before us."Why are you swearing in front of your charges?" He asked clearly annoyed."They just onlined and you're already corrupting them!"

My onlining overseer aka Frostbreeze cast an unimpressed glance at my chaperone, and then at me.

"What's going on?" He simply asked, ignoring the irritated mech.

"Cra.. 76640, crashed in to me at a bad angle after we finished refueling." I grumbled and showed him my right wing. Seriously, the crash was so bad I think he managed to reach my protoform. "My wing got injured." And I got caught cussing - I mentally added."I wasn't fighting, I swear!"

"I'm taking him to Weld." Said the red-gold overseer. Who was that? With a name like that, I hoped it was a medic.

Over-I mean Frostbreeze took a couple steps closer and examined my platform with an critical optic, trying to asses the damage. I saw him doing the same thing with Crash and my other batchmates, when we seemingly hurt ourselves due to clumsiness or general stupidity.

"I see… I'll take him from here." Frostbreeze said a moment later. I must have been close to offlining, because he never took any of us to the med-bay before. When we (seemingly) got hurt, he simply dismissed it and told us to suck it up.

Not wasting time, Frostbreeze turned around and started walking away. I quickly followed, still wary of the red-gold mech.

"Hey! This isn't over! I'm telling Updrift about your behavior!" The other overseer yelled as we were nearing the end of the hallway.

"I don't give a frag." Replied Frostbreeze and ignoring the angry sputtering from behind, lead me to what I assumed the medbay.

When we entered inside, I took a brief moment to look around. The room was brightly lit and currently empty, besides a white-red colored mech who was standing in front of a cluttered desk. The stranger was at least three helms shorter than me, but considerably bulkier and had strange symbols painted on the back of his wings. Was that the medic? Weld? Briefly I wondered what kind of alt-mode did he have.

The medic(?) hearing the door opening and closing, stopped what he was doing and turned around. Before I had the chance to speak up, he was right in front of me, scanning my injured wing.

"Oooh, what a nasty dent." He hummed and lightly touched it. Pain flared through my wing, then platform as I jerked away from the touch. What the frag is wrong with him?! It's clearly hurt! "Wing injuries are the worst. Most of our sensors are there, you know? You should be more careful in the future."

"It wasn't my fault…"I muttered, but a pointed glance from Frostbreeze shut me up.

"You didn't sneak outside, did you?" The medic asked, leading me towards a large berth with various strange tools connected to it. I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous. Some of them looked downright scary, like the fragging SAW over there. I hoped he didn't use that one on me."It's dangerous you know."

"I didn't. I just had an accident." I answered still eyeing the tools with distrust. Yeah, an accident called 'Crash'. Then the his words sank in."Why would it be dangerous to go outside? We fly above the factory every cycle." I said and lied down on the berth at his request.

"The airspace around the factory is protected by various force fields to keep you newsparks safe." The mech said conversationally. The maybe-Weld reached out and connected a strange device on the back of my neck. Immediately my whole platform went numb, and the pain from my wing ceased to exist.

"But it doesn't have an infinite range." He continued as his left arm shifted and transformed into some kind of medical tool." With the protest outside we're on heightened security. No one goes in, no one goes out. Standard protocols really."

"What's the protest about?"I asked curiously. The more I heard about it, the more intrigued I became.

"It doesn't matter."The medic said shaking his helm."You shouldn't worry about things like that. It's almost over anyways."

"Bunch of fraggers making us go behind schedule."Frostbreeze has chosen to sit on an unoccupied berth next to me."This is an assembly factory, not an youth center."

"Frostbreeze, don't swear in front of a youngling." Scolded the medic.

"I don't give a fr.."

"What's your designation?" I dared to interrupt my overseer.

"Weld." Replied the red-white mech. So I was right."And you're Orange I presume?"

"Wow, how did you guess?" I mumbled. At least I wasn't called a number, like most of my batchmates. I just hoped it did not became my actual designation at the end of the cycle.

"You're quite the anomaly." Weld said with a faint smile on his faceplate." As a war mech, you are automatically pre-built with red optics. Yet you onlined with orange. That rarely happens with your type."

"My type?" I tilted my helm curiously.

"Cold-constructed." The medic said simply." Being cold-constructed means that you shouldn't be able to influence your protoform, but you did, even if just a little."

"I honestly have no idea how I did it. I just onlined like that. It nothing bad, is it?" I only saw mechs with blue or red optics. Were my optics really that strange? Was I some sort of freak?

"Why of course not!" The medic smiled reassuringly." Albeit not common, there are millions of cybertronians that online with orange, yellow or even green optics. You're just one of them."

"So, how does it happen, exactly?" Weld hummed and I listened closely.

"It's due to your own unique spark and CNA. CNA of course stands for cyber nano algorithms. In layman's terms - it's what makes you, you."

Welp, theres goes Eight's theory, that the engineers that oversaw my protoforms construction simply ran out of red optics. Apparently, my optics were orange because of my spark, but technically speaking I WAS the spark...

"So.. Uhh that means that the spark… Uhh.. What…" Yeah, I wasn't really getting it.

"Let's not dwell on that." Weld said quickly, noticing my lost expression." Lessons on cybertronian genetics can wait for a few vorns."

The medbay went silent, as I gathered my thoughts.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" I broke the silence after a klik or two.

"Go ahead." The white-red mech said, blue optics not leaving my wing.

"How does this whole cold-construction thing work, exactly?" I asked and then clarified."Who is responsible for my onlining?"

I hoped he didn't say Primus or the Allspark. I wanted a serious answer.

"Maybe you should explain this Frostbreeze." Weld said, briefly looking at the light grey mech."He's your charge."

"Fine."Frostbreeze took a deep vent."Listen closely kid, because I'm not going to repeat myself." He said and started explaining.

"Cold-constructed mechs like you are in a constant demand, soldiers especially. That's why we build you as fast as we can. In your case, the Vosian Flyer's Onlining Guild is ultimately the one responsible for your onlining.

The Vosian High Council commissions the guild a quota of mechs to construct through factories like this. The guild covers your protoform material, construction and initial onlining costs, witch you pay back in taxes just by serving the military, during your first few vorns."

Before I could ask how do taxes work he continued.

"But that's speaking for public constructs. You're a bit different, since your onlining initiator is Cloudchaser." He said.

"Who is he?" I asked curiously. I already knew of the mechs existence due to my core programming, but nothing else.

"Only the fourth richest mech in Vos." Said Weld."Got a seat in the Vosian High Council a few vorns back."

"More of an entrepreneur than a politician in my opinion." Said Frostbreeze with a slight frown.

"Uhhh… So onlining initiator? What's that?" I asked before the topic shifted to something out of my understanding.

"Mechs that commission the factories independently from the the guild. They provide their own model designs and building materials. Since Cloudchaser is your onlining initiator and spent considerable amount of money for your existence, he has a massive say in the guild, concerning your future." Frostbreeze explained.

"It means he can dictate your future designation, class status, caste position - things like that." Said Weld sensing my confusion."Mechs like Cloudchaser have their own vested interest in your onlining. You'll understand in time."

"Will I get to meet him?" It would be nice to say 'thank you for making me exist' to the mech.

"Directly? Not likely." Frostbreeze shook his helm."There's just too many of you to great personally."

"How many?" I asked, making calculations in my processor. From my first cycle observations, I already knew that there were at least one hundred of us.

"There's supposed to be 100 000 of you." Frostbreeze said and my optics widened in surprise. Before I could ask a follow up question, the mech suddenly jumped from his spot on the berth, effectively startling me, and flared his EM field with irritation."But I don't see how that's possible, seeing that we're massively behind schedule!"

"Ummm…" I should have kept my intake shut.

"Do you even realize how much it's going to cost us for an unfulfilled order?! What Cloudchaser will do to us?!" I hastily shook my helm ( a weird thing to do, since it was the only part of my body I could currently feel), hoping he wouldn't start breaking things.

"Of course you don't! There's only two decacycles left until the allotted time is up, and there's still 23 thousand more of you, that needs to be built and onlined!"

"How fast can you do that?" I asked in a small voice, hoping to end Frostbreeze's rant.

"With a custom order like yours - thousand a cycle." Said Weld, completely ignoring the aggravated mech."But due to the protest outside, the whole process has stopped since we hit material shortage."

"Good for nothing..." Frostbreeze seethed in anger."Don't they have anything better to do, than to complain? Because of them Cloudchaser is going to shut down the whole factory!"

"He wouldn't do that, would he? I mean, I'm not complaining that I'm stuck here. What's a few more cycles of waiting?" I asked nervously.

"Of course he won't, you stupid glitch."Frostbreeze gave me a nasty glare and I inwardly shrunk down." What he's going to do is sue the frag of us!"

"FROSTBREEZE! Language!" Weld snapped and even stopped working on my wing momentarily.

"You see, if you were an average guild commissioned build, the situation wouldn't be so dire."He explained after a deep vent." Material delays happen, and while it's unfortunate, it's the government that loses the money at the end of the cycle. With independent contractors like Cloudchaser though…"

"Fragged. Utterly fragged." Huffed the light grey mech." The factory is going to get a reputation hit, just you wait! Nobody will commision their designs here if we fail to deliver!"

"So… Um…How much lost money are we talking here, exactly?" I asked, probably adding fuel to the fire.

"Millions." Frostbreeze spat. And wow, that sounded like a big number. Not that I could compare it to anything, since I didn't even know the local price of energon.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I said after a few moments of tense silence. It was no wonder that Frostbreeze finally snapped. Just listening about the whole situation made my energy levels rise. Stupid protest!

"Don't worry about us." Weld said and smiled slightly."Updrift will probably pull some mechs from other factories to help us out."

"You mean Greyshift still owns him a favor?" Frostbreeze asked, his EM field finally under control.

"I think so."

Yeah, I had no idea who those mechs were, and I didn't want to ask in fear of another rant.

"Anyways, your wing is done!" Said Weld suddenly. "Your self-repair systems will take care of any scarring left behind."

The medic didn't wait for my response and disconnected the device off my neck. An astrosecod later, I felt my whole platform again.

"Uhh, thanks." I said and sat up. I carefully moved my wing and while it stinged slightly, it didn't hurt like before. The dent was gone and only a small scar remained.

"You are forbidden from transforming and flying for the rest of your time at the factory." The white-red mech said when he caught my attention.

"Wait what? Why? That's so not fair!" Seriously, that was the best part of being online.

"I'm serious youngling, if I catch you flying, I'm sending you to the sorting guild with the last batch, make no mistake."

"Sure, whatever. Can I go now?" I asked, hopping to my pedes.

"No. You're spending the night here."

"I am?" I didn't know how to feel about this. Weld, unlike my batchmates was practically a stranger and the med bay was an unfamiliar place."Can't I go recharge in my own barracks? I feel fine."

"You're staying here where I can monitor your health." Weld said with finality in his voice. Yeah, no way I'm doing that - it was time for plan B. Gathering my courage, I turned to Frostbreeze and gave him the most pleading look I could manage. Surely he had more authority than Weld as my overseer?

"..." Frostbreeze's optics narrowed and my courage evaporated. He kept glaring at me, until I obediently lied down on the berth again.

"Rest. I'll come to get you in the morning." He said and left the med bay, while Weld returned to his desk.

For a few kliks, I watched the door in silence, not sure what to do next. It was still way too early to go recharging and I didn't want to bother Weld while he worked. I felt boredom creeping in.

"Here." Weld returned to my berth after a breem, carrying a data pad similar to the one Frostbreeze had. "This is my personal datapad, so don't drop it." He quickly tapped something on the screen and then gave it to me.

"Are you going to test my processor?" I asked confused. What if I glitched again?

"What? No!" Weld laughed."I'm giving it to you, so you won't be bored while I work. See this? The pad is connected to the Globat Data Net. You're going to like it."

Then Weld briefly explained what that was. Apparently, everything fun that there was could be found there - like holovids, books, music, games and etc. The medic cautioned me to never download anything from the net, no matter how fun or interesting it appeared, unless I wanted my processor corrupted and fried.

At the same time he showed me how to properly use the data pad itself, witch was incredibly easy. The whole thing took only a few kliks, when I finally grasped the whole thing.

"Watch some educational holovids before you go recharging. Just think about a topic or a question you want answered, and it will appear on the screen. Easy." The mech said and returned to his work.

I shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable and focused my attention on the datapad, contemplating. I thought about things that I wanted to learn about. Maybe I should start with the caste system? Research the Vosian High Caste? The Flyers Guild? Nah, that sounded boring. And complicated. Maybe later?

Hey, Frostbreeze yesterday called my batch a bunch of scrapplets or something? That was an unfamiliar term. Might as well start here.

Following my process of thought, the information on the data pad shifted, and I was greeted with millions of holovids concerning scrapplets. Huh, from the looks of it, a scrapplet was a small, round, innocent looking metallic creature with sharp dentas.

I gently tapped on the very first holovid, that popped up on the screen. It had trillions of views, so it must be good right?

...

I ended up not recharging for two following cycles.


End file.
